Suicide Blonde(s)

[Riley Mauven]

It seemed as though it was just another morning for Riley May Alexandra as she pulled a comb through her hair in front of the armoir in her family's modest apartment. But as the last few strands of blonde hair fell into place, she smiled, knowing that really, this very day could change her life. Little did she know that she was correct, but for reasons other than those that had crossed her mind the night before. Reasons that, after the bad break up with her boyfriend, she would not have yet considered. Running a vanilla scented chapstick over her pale lips, the seventeen year old pouted, before giggling ever so quietly at her reflection, being sure not to wake her sleeping mother and twin sister. Today was the day that the Hufflepuff would see if her destiny was just that, if she truly was meant to be a journalist, if she belonged to the Daily Prophet. It had always seemed like a wonderful and exciting existence to her, even as a child, despite being brought up as a muggle before attending Hogwarts. Journalists were glamorous, strong, and independent women. They demanded power, and as these words flooded the seventh year's brain, she made a secret promise to herself that she would be an example of them all that morning, the morning of her very first interview.

If she was being completely honest, Riley would have to admit that she was surprised when she had received notification that she had been accepted into an internship at the Daily Prophet. Her grades had never been tremendous like those of Kalani's, who had quite often rained on her sister's parade, not purposefully, but becoming Head Girl of Beauxbatons had certainly outshined any of the passes Riley had gained in her various school subjects. So, without hesitation the teen had accepted, and immediately begged her mother for money to buy herself a 'professional outfit' she wanted to look the part when she met with the man she would be interviewing. Now that she could use magic outside of Hogwarts, it didn't take long at all for her to apparate to the Quidditch Pitch, the very destination she had scrawled onto a post-it note as her journalist mentor had said it just that little bit to quickly. With a smile on her face, Riley May pressed her skirt down with her hands and checked her bag one last time for the quill and parchment she would be needing, and the sheet of questions she was going to ask the Professional Quidditch player she was meeting with. She had been told his name was Mr. Will Connors, but she hadn't been told anything else, those details were for her to find out.

The Hufflepuff Seeker was particularly excited when she discovered Mr. Connors was a pro player, it was one of the things she herself had dreamed of ever since she had started first on the Beauxbatons school team, and secondly on the Hogwarts school team when she had transfered. Needless to say, the seventh year hadn't heard from any scouts yet, something that was a little disheartening, but she soon forgot about it as she stepped further forward onto the pitch, noticing a young blonde haired man was the only person to be seen on the pitch. She certainly hadn't anticipated that her subject was going to be so, well, good looking. She smiled at Will. "Riley Alexandra. Intern for the Daily Prophet." she announced proudly, biting her lip as she looked closer at the lemon juice died hair that Mr. Connors was sporting. She had to keep biting down on it not to laugh, she was no longer thinking of how good looking he was, she was very knowledgable when it came to hair , and that was no natural colouring that she saw in front of her. ​

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[Will Connors]

At this point interviews didn't really phase the eighteen year old, all the photo's, the screaming fan girls, it all just became a bit numb to him after a while. Will had only been playing for the Quibberon Quafflepunchers since January but within those first couple of months, the press acted like vultures, fighting over some poor helpless animal, tearing away the last bits of its carcus. It was only now however that The Daily Prophet got around to interviewing him which, he was told was great publicity seeing as now that schools were finished, scouts were offering spots on teams to students left, right and centre. So having Will spotlighted at a time where sports fans everywhere where reading newspapers finding out what the newest meat on their favourite squads were, did not only great things for himself but for the Quibberon Quafflepunchers. Or something like that. Will tended to zone out when PR's advised him on what to do and say, he often wondered why snagging a spot on the front page of a broadsheet or tabloid was so much more important than the sport itself.

Will was never exposed to a life of fame, he grew up on the outskirts of a town in the south of New Zealand and even at fourteen when himself, his parents and younger sister moved to France, the village he lived in was just as nonchalant as a sleepy Pygmy Puff. But then all of a sudden the unassuming Will became tangled in this whirlpool of glamour and attention and where difficult words like tabloids and broadsheets were being thrown about and all the eighteen year old could do was nod along. Now, as he stood just as unassuming as ever, he didn't feel the same fear he used to feel, that he would say something silly or something that would cause a significant amount of scandal. He didn't dread the thought of getting his photo taken anymore or that when he left the Quidditch Pitch he might have a gaggling bunch of teenage girls swarming him. His large hands dug deeply into the pockets of his denim shorts whilst simply staring around the giant pitch. He loved how large it all seemed from where he was standing at that moment. He played once before on this pitch not too long ago, and now as he tried to recall it, he realised that it was the pitch where his first away game took place. The fear had taken over his entire body the morning of that game, as he warmed up alongside his team mates, but once he was up in the air it was all simply forgotten about. The boistrous crowds, the universal pressure to win (or mess up), it all just became about the game. And like the media, Will saw past it, all he could see was the sport that he dearly loved. It was the only way he make sense of anything these days

A familiar cracking sound of an apparition broke the echoing silence that surrounded himself and his thoughts. He turned around quickly to the south of the pitch, where the sound burst from. Will cupped a hand over his furrowed brow, blocking out the severely blinding sunlight and peered down at who it was. As Will suspected it was the journalist and she was, well, to go by Will's initial reaction, hot. It came as a shock really because generally these journalists were woman in their mid-thirties, wearing skirts that fell below their knees in the most unflattering of ways. But she was a pretty little thing and looked just about his age. He couldn't decide whether that would make everything more or, less comfortable. He pushed away these boyish thoughts and reminded himself to be completely professional about this, to act exactly as he did with any one of those mid-thirties, long skirt wearing, journalists. He swished his long mop of bright blonde hair from his eyes before walking across the pitch, towards the journalist to meet her halfway. As they became closer to closing the distance between them, the girl introduced herself as Riley. Will held out his hand and smiled at her, a smile that automatically prounounced the size of his large mouth. "Will Connors. Chaser for the Quibberon Quafflepunchers." He said with great confidence, his smile faltering only as he saw the girl bite down on her lip, holding back a giggle it seemed. She looked seriously cute when she did that, but it still had him wondering, "Is there something.....wrong?" He asked her, tilting his head slightly in confusion all the while forcing out a breezy chuckle as he tried to understand what had this girl fit to double over.​

 

[Riley Mauven]

Of all the places she could have been, Riley was here. It seemed like heaven to her, Quidditch players surrounding her, the smell of the pitch, the early morning sun beating down on them and the smell of sweat, more the smell of hard work to her. The seventeen year old was there, standing in front of a real life professional player, and a good looking one at that. But she wasn't here for that, she was here to interview him, though she wasn't too certain what she was going to ask him just yet, she wanted to say the right things and not cross any lines which was why she seemed to jump just a little when the man who introduced himself as Will Connors asked her if something was wrong. It seemed the Hufflepuff had been staring just a little to long and hard at his striking features. But Riley reassured herself that Will had probably been interviewed countless times before and had girls swoon over him more times than he could count, so with a breath in she composed herself and brushed down her dress, a welcoming smile spreading across her face. "Nice to meet you Mr. Connors." she pronounced perfectly, in an almost American accent, it was obvious that she was trying far to hard to not come across as a newbie. "No, no, nothing wrong," she started, quickly trying to think of some sort of excuse as to why she had been staring so intently at his bleach look hair. "You just, have a little.." she continued, her voice trailing off as she reached forward and smoothed down a fly away hair upon Will's head, letting out a sigh of relief as she did so.

With that their faces grew closer and as her fingers moved from his hair her nose almost met with his and she smiled, her eyes intently fixed on his handsome features, this was everything she was not supposed to be doing, mixing love and work. Even if this interview was only a trial, she didn't want to screw it up just in case she didn't get any offers from Quidditch teams when she graduated Hogwarts. A few moments passed and Riley jolted her head back, tucking her own fly away behind her ear and looking just a little stunned. "We want you to look good for your photo" she stammered, 'we' meaning the Daily Prophet as she hoped so desperately her interview would be published, even if she was only an intern. Phew she thought, it seemed she had covered herself well. So Riley reached gingerly into her bag and pulled out her camera motioning towards Will, assuming that he had done this before and knew what his 'best side' was, but by the looks of him, the seventeen year old assumed that he would photograph well from any angle, that was her personal opinion anyway. Riley stepped back and positioned the camera, pleased that she had taken a course in photography the last summer, and snapped the picture, three for good measure, just in case the others didn't turn out well.

"Is there somewhere we can take a seat?" she asked politely, taking note of her surroundings like she had learnt from her mentor she had decided she needed a place where she could press her quill onto her parchment, and it would be too difficult outside where there was no table. In the meantime, Riley carefully reached into her bag and pulled out the pack of parchment and trusty quill and flicked through her pages of notes, looking for her reference sheet of questions she had so carefully drafted the night before. Obedient, the seventh year followed Will, walking just behind him so he couldn't see just how flushed her cheeks were, she was not used to this feeling. The seventeen year old was not exactly experienced with dealing with crushes, she had only had one boyfriend, and a run in with having a major crush on an older man, who was now going to become her step father, not to mention a momentary batting of eyelids with a boy she later found out 'batted for the other team'. So it was no suprise that Riley was not at all prepared to be falling for another man, and she was falling for him hard. Not thinking of marrying him and having babies, just the typical teenage girl crush, which she was embarrassed to be getting, Will probably had thousands of girls in the Wizarding world feeling just the same about him, what was going to make her any different? ​